Waiting
by LuteofLorien
Summary: Aragorn knows how to fight, but can he learn how to wait? He faces a new challenge outside the royal birthing chamber, awaiting the arrival of his first child. Luckily, he has a friend by his side. One-shot.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own _The Lord of the Rings._ Obviously.

Waiting

Aragorn sat in the corridor, his bowed head resting on his hands, which were clasped in front of him.

It was quiet. Occasionally there would be a gentle rustling or an indistinct sound of voices from the room behind him and he would peer round anxiously towards the large oaken door, as if he wanted to pierce it with his eyes and see through to what was happening within. There was another sound, though, just on the edge of his hearing, a soft humming emanating from the figure resting on the window seat on the opposite side of the corridor. For a while he was soothed by its soft rise and fall, but eventually the desire to hear the happenings in the room behind him won out and he began to find it irksome.

Finally, as the murmuring behind the door increased in volume, he could stand it no longer.

'Legolas, will you stop that humming! I'm trying to hear what's going on.'

The figure on the window seat slipped down gracefully and crossed the corridor to where Aragorn sat.

'Good luck with that! Not even my hearing can make out words through oak that thick. But I'll stop. I didn't realise it was disturbing you.' His bright eyes filled with concern. 'Are you okay?'

Aragorn leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

'It's too quiet. I thought this was usually…a loud affair.'

'In case you hadn't noticed, my friend, you married an elf.' A small smile tugged at the corners of Aragorn's lips.

'As is often the case between our peoples, elves perform the same task with less shouting. Besides, I take it you wouldn't rather she was screaming in pain?'

'Of course not!' He shot Legolas a wounded glance, then groaned and slumped forwards again. 'I just wish I knew what was going on in there.'

'As do I, my friend. But no news is good news. They'd inform you if there were something amiss.'

Just then the door to the room opened. Both sprang to their feet as an elven lady emerged, completely ignored them, and began striding purposefully down the corridor in the opposite direction.

'What news?' Aragorn called to her, his voice betraying more anxiety than he had intended.

Hearing his question, she retraced her steps with the same swift gait and responded: 'All is well, my lord. Things are progressing as they should, slowly but surely.'

'How much longer, Araniel?' Legolas inquired.

'These things are hard to predict. The baby will make its appearance in its own time.'

'Just an estimate?' Aragorn was almost pleading now.

'Perhaps another hour or so. Maybe more.'

Aragorn gave a long sigh.

'I still don't see why I can't go in. I long to be by her side.'

'Sir, you are aware that it is not done, among elves or among men.'

'Surely a few minutes can't hurt? Just to hear her voice?'

'I am sorry, sir, but it would not be right.'

'But why though? I am her husband. It's not like I haven't se-'

The disapproving look from Araniel and a sharp nudge in the ribs, courtesy of Legolas' elbow, prevented him from saying whatever he was about to say.

'I am fully aware of that sir, but nevertheless I am afraid it is impossible,' she replied, somewhat testily.

'I am the king!'

As soon as he said it, Aragorn was ashamed at the petulance of which he would have thought himself incapable just a few hours before.

Araniel gave him a quiet, level stare.

'Yes, sir, you are. And every single father in your realm has endured the same. Many more of your men one day will. You are celebrated as a king who understands and stands by your subjects. This is no exception. You stand with them in this also.'

Aragorn seemed to diminish under her penetrating stare.

'I am sorry. I spoke hastily. I just…want to be with her.'

Her voice took on a softer tone. 'I understand, sir. It is natural. But you need not fear for your wife, nor underestimate her strength. She is doing very well. And now I must complete my errand. If you would excuse me, my lords.'

Leaving them no time to respond, she walked quickly away. Once her back had rounded the corner, both returned to their seats.

After a moment of silence, Legolas turned to Aragorn and raised an eyebrow: ''I am the king?''

Aragorn had the grace to look ashamed as his own words were quoted back to him.

Legolas continued with amusement in his voice: 'I thought you would consider that method beneath you, Aragorn.'

'Believe me, I do. And it is. Do not mock me, Legolas. This waiting…it's eating away at my nerves. Give me Helm's Deep again over this!'

'Really?'

'Yes. No. I don't know. At least in battle you're constantly making decisions, planning your next move, controlling your own destiny to some extent. This just makes me feel so- so helpless.'

Once again he was subjected to a penetrating stare from an elf, but this time it was not harsh, simply searching.

'What are you afraid of, Estel? You know that this is less perilous for elves than for the wives of men.'

'Of course I know that. But the child is half a man. This does not happen often.'

'Every precaution has been taken. All the most powerful healers remaining among the elves are on hand and will be there the instant they are needed. And we've just heard that everything is going well so far.'

He continued to look steadily at Aragorn and asked in a low voice: 'So, what are you really afraid of?'

Aragorn's hands twisted together and he suddenly seemed engrossed in a tile just in front of him on the floor. Legolas waited patiently, giving him time to gather his thoughts. Eventually he spoke, fixated on the spot in front of him.

'My wife is going through something I'll never be able to understand. Something outside of my control and something I cannot aid her in. I married her because I wanted to walk every step of our journey together. But she must walk this one alone, and though I know she does it courageously, that scares me. And it is so frustrating that she is so close and yet I cannot go to her.'

He scuffed at the tiles beneath his feet with the heel of his boot. Legolas regarded him thoughtfully.

'Tell me, Estel, was Arwen with you at Helm's Deep?' Aragorn was clearly startled by the question and looked up at Legolas, the confusion evident on his face.

'Of course not. But you were, and you know she wasn't.'

'What about the Paths of the Dead? Pelennor fields? Morannon Gate?'

'No. But, again, you know that.'

'How about your wanderings as a Ranger? Did she accompany you on a single journey then?'

'No she did not. Where are you going with this, Legolas?'

The elf smiled. 'You really don't see?'

The puzzlement on Aragorn's face attested that he did not.

'You just told me that your fear stems from the fact that you have to wait while Arwen walks a path which is meant only for her. I was wondering if you had taken into consideration exactly how many times she has done that for you.'

Aragorn's eyes widened as he reflected. 'No. No, I had not thought of that.'

'Moreover, when was the moment you realised that your fates were bound together?'

'You know that also. Cerin Amroth, when I was forty-nine.'

'And how long was it until your marriage?'

Aragorn's voice had dropped to a whisper. 'Forty years.'

'Forty years. _Forty years,_ Estel. Forty years of standing by and watching while you walked the lonely, dark and difficult path to your crown and she could not join you. Oh, and I almost forgot, while you played a crucial role in the deadliest war this world has ever known. She let you go to walk your path. Now it is your turn to do the same for her. She waited forty years for you, Estel. You can manage another hour or two for her.'

A new understanding was dawning in Aragorn's eyes. He turned his face downwards once more, his expression stricken. He remained in that position for a long while, musing, until he finally said:

'Of course I appreciated that those years must have been difficult for her. Of course I knew that she was concerned for my safety while I was away, and that she hated being parted. But I don't think I understood until now what that must have been like.'

He whistled softly under his breath.

' _Valar,_ did she go through _this_ for forty years? This feeling of helplessness as your beloved goes where you cannot go? This constant gnawing feeling that you ought to be at her side and you cannot? I always knew she had a beautiful inner strength. I realise now she is even stronger than I thought.'

Aragorn stared into the distance, grappling with this revelation about his wife, trying to imagine the fiercely proud yet compassionate woman he knew holding this pain in her heart for all that time. Legolas looked on at his friend's efforts to comprehend both his wife and himself, and said with a gentle smile:

'Perhaps you need to take some lessons in waiting from your wife, Estel. You clearly are married to a master.'

Aragorn responded with a laugh, shaking his head.

'In fact, I think she has already begun to teach me! But she is a hard taskmaster and I am finding this first assignment rather difficult. You have succeeded in causing me to be astonished all over again by the strength of my wife, Legolas. Still, that does not prevent me from hoping that this will be over sooner rather than later.'

'I know, _mellon-nin._ I know that it is hard. But-' He paused for a moment, considering his next words.

'You do not wait alone.' He placed his hand on Aragorn's forearm, cautiously, as though expecting to be rebuffed. But Aragorn did not shrug him off, and finally turned to look at his friend, saying:

'Thank you, _mellon-nin._ Thank you for being here.'

'I wouldn't miss this for the world.'

When Araniel returned a few minutes later with the jug of water she had gone to fetch, she glanced quickly at the pair waiting by the door. The king's head was resting on Legolas' shoulder, whilst the latter's arm rested protectively around him. Sighing deeply, Aragorn closed his eyes and Legolas gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Araniel raised her eyebrows questioningly at Legolas, who winked. She shook her head in disbelief, smiling. Whatever Legolas had done, the prospect of an impatient king bursting uninvited into the birthing chamber now seemed distinctly less likely.

Still smiling, she returned to her work, pondering the strange ways of those who wait.


End file.
